His First Word
by AndromedaAiken
Summary: Seven year old Mycroft is faced with the arrival of a new sibling. As soon as he laid eyes on his baby brother, he felt a strong sense of protection towards him. This would come back to haunt him later in life. Post-Reichenbach.


**His First Word**

**A/N: Have been reading Sherlock/Mycroft stories over the past few days to de-stress from an insane academic workload. The title popped into my mind this evening and I couldn't resist. The story then came out. Apologies if this sounds a little OOC. It's difficult to portray an intelligent 7/8 year old when he's interacting with a baby :). As mature we think these smart children are, they are still children at heart. I hope you enjoy the story and please review when you get to the end, thank you!**

Mycroft remembers that fateful day when Father took him to the hospital where Mother had been overnight. Ever since the news of the pregnancy broke, Mycroft had been excited to gain a new sibling. After 7 years of being alone, he finally had a playmate albeit the so-called playmate would not be available for individual play for another year or so.

"Did he come? Did he come, Mother?" Mycroft enquired, right as he entered the door. He looked at his mother, who looked very tired but content. In her arms, she was holding a bundle of blue blankets.

She gestured him over. "Come have a look. Say hi to your brother, Mycroft."

Mycroft peered into the blanket. In there slept a little boy with a head of curly black hair. Mycroft's chest tightened. This was his brother…_his_ brother. No other person in the world had that title. _My little brother…_

"What's his name, Mother?"

"Sherlock." came his father.

"Would you like to hold him, Mycroft?"

He gazed up at his mother in surprise. "Can I? I don't know how to hold a baby."

She grinned at him, "Oh, it's not difficult. Come sit next to me and I'll hand him to you."

Mycroft climbed up next to Mother eagerly. Just as Sherlock came to Mycroft's embrace, he opened his eyes for Mycroft for the first time. He looked blinkingly at Mycroft. Mycroft stared helplessly at the gray eyes of his baby brother. "Hi…" he said hesitantly. Sherlock's eyes shifted around a little before he snuggled into Mycroft's arms just a little more before falling asleep. Mycroft knew there and then that protecting his baby brother was going to be his responsibility.

Mother took Sherlock back from Mycroft and said, "He's not going to be awake much. He's going to be sleeping at least 18 hours a day. Not very interesting huh?"

Mycroft laughed, "How boring. I wonder if babies dream?"

Then, his father took hold of Mycroft's shoulder. "Come now, you should get going."

"But Father…"

"You've got exams coming up, Mycroft. I expect nothing but the best from you. I have put your name down for Harrow since you were born. As you near the last few years before entrance, they will be tracking your grades. If you don't do well enough, you won't get in."

Mycroft's head bowed. "Yes, Father."

"Don't fret. Sherlock and Mother will be home in a few days. There were no major complications with the birth and Sherlock is perfectly healthy so she will only stay for the mandatory few days before being discharged."

Mycroft nodded. As father and son started for the door, Mycroft suddenly turned back and raced to his mother's bedside. Planting a kiss on Sherlock's forehead, he said, "Goodbye Sherlock. I'll see you in a few days." His mother ruffled his hair and mother and son shared a hug and kiss. She then gestured him off, "Go Mycroft. We'll be home soon."

It had been a month since Sherlock's arrival into the Holmes family. Mycroft's favourite thing to do after school now was to go into the nursery and interact (or tried to) with Sherlock. He was getting slightly frustrated that Sherlock was doing nothing but staring (or sleeping!) all day. He placed his bag on the floor before gesturing to the maid to bring it to his room. She complied. Mycroft leaned over the cot and saw that Sherlock was awake and staring fixedly at the mobile above him. His arms and legs were in an uncoordinated mess. Mycroft chuckled at how intensely Sherlock was trying to make sense of his limb movements. Mycroft prodded his brother. _No response_. He then tried stroking the baby's cheek. Sherlock's head turned towards Mycroft's finger and sucked on in. _WHAT?!_ Mycroft withdrew his finger immediately. Mycroft then shifted the mobile away slightly so that his face was right over Sherlock's. He hadn't dared to carry Sherlock out of his cot as yet because he was still so tiny and had no support for his head as yet.

He gazed into Sherlock's gray eyes and cooed, "Hello Sherlock! Happy to see me?"

The baby looked at him, legs still kicking about. And suddenly, it took Mycroft awhile to believe it, Sherlock smiled. Mycroft's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Did…did you just smile at me, Sherlock? Huh? Did you?"

Sherlock continued smiling at his older brother. Mycroft grinned ecstatically. "Oh, you smiled! You did! For me!"

As if he wanted to one-up himself, Sherlock went a further step and cooed at his brother. Mycroft was absolutely flabbergasted by now. Then he grinned, "You're just like any Holmes boy, aren't you? Always wanting to be ahead. You're going to be talking next, eh? Come on Sherlock. Try it. Can you say Mycroft?"

More cooing ensued. Mycroft did not tell his mother or the nanny about Sherlock's smiling and cooing. Let them find out. _It's my little secret. My baby brother's first smile was for me!_

The next morning at breakfast, Mother announced the good news and she expected Mycroft to be surprised but Mycroft hardly showed any expression.

"You know, don't you, Mycroft?"

Mycroft shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe."

The school term(s) wore on. Mycroft's prep school had started to increase the boys' academic workload and Mycroft found himself with more homework to complete after school. Despite that, he still made it a point to spend time with Sherlock after he came home. It was his way of venting his frustrations of the stupidity he saw from the boys in his class. Despite his tender age, Mycroft's intelligence far surpassed that of his classmates, which gave rise to a lot of teasing from the other boys. It also meant that his teachers liked to push him to the limit to stretch him. This inadvertently meant more work.

Sherlock was a good listener and often sat in Mycroft's lap whilst Mycroft shared how his school day went. Mycroft could not go to Father obviously; he was too busy. Mother was often out in the afternoon with her friends, leaving Mycroft at home alone with the nanny, maids, and Sherlock.

One afternoon, Mycroft sat in the nursery rocking his baby brother on his lap gently, as he wont to do daily now, Sherlock started banging the toys he had together, creating quite a din in the nursery. Mycroft mused. His brother was starting to have a penchant for being fast and he was starting to be loud as well. The din excited Sherlock apparently, as he started to laugh and giggle. Mycroft chuckled and bounced Sherlock on his lap. "You like that, don't you?"

Then it came. It was so soft that Mycroft had to strain to hear it. "Ma-cof."

"Sorry?"

"Ma-cof!"

Mycroft turned Sherlock so they were facing each other. "What?"

The boy was insistent now. "Ma-cof!"

Mycroft grinned. "Mycroft, eh? You're going to take the world by storm, Sherlock Holmes. Speaking at the age of 10 months."

Mycroft hugged Sherlock to his chest. The boy grabbed hold of his shirt. "Your first word…your first word. I love you, Sherlock."

"Uf-oo Ma-cof."

It took Mycroft less than a second to realize that Sherlock was repeating what he just said but in response to him. Mycroft kept Sherlock close to him. _I love you too. And I will always look out for you._

Little Sherlock Holmes would go on to hit all his developmental milestones early and by the time he was 4, he had read all of Mycroft's science textbooks and conducted his own little experiments at home, driving their father to exasperation. Sherlock was clearly unhappy when Mycroft had to leave home for boarding school, crying and running behind the car with a face full of tears before Mother managed to catch him and pick him up as she waved goodbye. Sherlock, like Mycroft, possessed intelligence in spades. His mind was constantly on the go. However, he differed from Mycroft in the way they worked. Mycroft was content to sit and let things unravel in front of him whilst Sherlock made things happen by running around. This particular trait of his annoyed Mycroft especially when they were both adults as Sherlock would often run headlong into danger in pursuit of the truth. Mycroft dreaded the day he would receive a phone call saying that Sherlock had been killed running around. It was for that reason that Sherlock received a higher level of surveillance under Mycroft's orders. Dr John Watson would later also receive the same.

Mycroft sat in The Diogenes Club reading the newspaper article of Sherlock's suicide. He started at the words in the article. He'd read the same article thrice now. He folded the paper and set it aside. He placed his hands together under his chin and his shoulders drooped. The two brothers no longer shared the loving relationship they had when they were younger. Their current relationship was one of outwitting each other in making comebacks. Despite carrying the motto, "Caring is not an advantage", Mycroft knew that deep down, he cared. He did care for Sherlock, always had. _I'm so sorry Sherlock…I failed you. I failed in my promise to look out for you. I love you brother, rest in peace._

**FIN.**


End file.
